


Empyrean

by perihadion



Series: Sanctuary [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, F/M, Keldabe Kiss, Mandalorian Kiss, Sexual Content, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perihadion/pseuds/perihadion
Summary: Din and Omera have soft, romantic sex in pitch dark. (This is the sex scene omitted in Covenant but it's also a stand-alone.)
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Omera (Star Wars)
Series: Sanctuary [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586530
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	Empyrean

_old soul on young shoulders_  
_how you look when you’re older_  
_time’s fickle card game_  
_with you and I_  
— “Before Your Very Eyes…”, Thom Yorke

*

Din walked a few steps behind Omera from the barn to her hut and paused at the entrance until she beckoned him inside with a smile. He knew the other villagers would talk regardless but out of respect for Omera he preferred to create an air of plausible deniability about what they were doing. He nodded to her politely, with an air of false distance, and stepped into her home.

Once inside she took his hand again and raised it to her lips. She kissed every knuckle with a smile and then pulled his glove off, raising it to her mouth again and kissing each fingertip. He watched her, committing every facet of this slow and sweet moment — the way she looked in the low light, the ridges of her lips and the way they felt against his skin, they way he felt — to memory.

“I missed these hands,” she said, and he remembered the way she felt pressed up against the tree with his hand between her thighs, on that night when they were so desperate for each other. The reminder made him hard.

She pulled him into her, and pressed her cheek to the side of his helmet. He felt a thrill run through him at the delicate contact. One of her hands was at the back of his neck, fingers under the helmet, curling into his hair. A shiver ran down his spine. How long had it been since he was touched like this? Had any of his lovers touched him like this?

He pulled his other glove off and put his hands to her face, pulling her in and pressing the forehead of his helmet to her forehead. He wondered if she knew what it meant. She closed her eyes and rubbed her nose against his visor, and then opened her eyes and smiled at him.

She took his hand again then and led him across the hut to her bedroom. When she had pulled him in she let the cloth draped over the entrance fall shut and they were in complete darkness. Din’s heart caught in his throat.

“Will this do?” she asked.

He felt her put her hands to his helmet, as he had once before, and he nodded. She lifted it from him. The night air was so cool and smelled mossy and delicious.

“It’s next to the bed,” she said.

He found her in the dark and pulled her into him, blind hands finding her face, and her mouth — which he kissed.

Din had kissed and been kissed before. But how long had it been? — and had it ever been this gentle? His hands were in her hair, and he pressed soft kisses to her mouth, her cheeks, the corners of her eyes. She was pulling at the fastenings of his armour, and the cuirass felt to the floor with a clatter. Then her hands were on his body, over his clothes, but closer than anyone had been for years, maybe decades. He felt weak as she pulled him in to deepen the kiss.

She bit his lip gently, and pulled back. He chased her with his mouth, pulling her back into the kiss. Vambraces and pauldrons fell to the floor, and she was pulling at his cloak. “Take this off,” she whispered.

He stepped back, unwinding the cloak and cowl from his neck and dropping them to the floor along with all the armour which under different circumstances he would have handled with more care.

He could feel her smiling as he pulled her in to kiss him again, and she was able to pull him in close and feel every part of his body against hers — including the part where he wanted her the most. She pushed him towards the bed, and it hit his knees so that he almost fell, and sat down onto it.

He heard her pull her dress off over her head.

“I wish I could see you,” he said, imagining eyes burning bright with desire, and milk-smooth skin everywhere. She just laughed, as if to say, ‘that makes two of us’, and then she climbed onto him, pressing herself against his erection. He could feel her hair cascading down all around his face like a gossamer veil, and leaned up to kiss her again but she pulled away.

“I want to touch your face,” she said, putting her hand to his cheek. She ran it lightly along his jaw, down his nose, and used her thumbs to explore his eyebrows, eye sockets, and cheekbones. “Long eyelashes,” she breathed, running her fingertips over his lips.

The ghost of her touch was almost unbearable, and he placed his hands on her hips, then turned one hand over to run the top of his fingers gently along the inside of her thigh. The realisation that she was entirely naked was overwhelming. He put his hand on the small of her back and pulled her into him. He pressed kisses all over her breasts and in between them as she pulled at his shirt, breaking apart only to pull it over his head.

She leaned forward and kissed him again, hard, wrapping her arms around him as if she couldn’t get close enough to him. He took advantage of their situation to stand, his hand under her ass, and deposit her on her back on the bed.

“Wait,” he said, as he unbuckled his belt and pulled his boots and trousers off.

“The sound of you taking off your clothes is so hot,” came the response, and he smiled to himself, before climbing on top of her, between her legs, and kissing her hard. She dragged her nails down his spine, making him shiver, and grabbed his ass. He kissed her neck, her clavicle, her stomach — including the almost imperceptible scar across the bottom — and then the insides of her thighs.

This, too, was an unusual indulgence for him.

“Din,” she breathed as he pressed his mouth to her experimentally. He pulled away to nuzzle her thigh, and she put her hand in his hair, pushing him towards where she wanted it. Just being here, between her thighs, feeling how wet she was for him was bliss. He kissed her again and then finally pressed his tongue to her clit.

She moaned as he kissed, and sucked, and teased. She was so loud he thought there was no way her neighbours wouldn’t hear, but she didn’t seem to mind. His cock ached for her, and he resisted the urge to touch himself, pushing his tongue into her as she came with his name — his real name — on her lips.

He kissed his way up her body again; there was a thin layer of sweat on her skin — the taste of salt and earth, and Omera. She was breathing hard when he pressed his mouth against hers again and she moaned into him.

“Where did you learn to do that?” she asked, as he pressed kisses to her neck.

He didn’t answer — what was the point in telling her all the ways he had bent the rules almost to their breaking point before? The only thing that mattered to him, as he rubbed the head of his cock against her, was this moment.

He kissed her again as he pushed into her and she wrapped her legs tight around him as if she meant to make him a part of her. “ _Cyar’ika_ ,” he whispered as she pressed her lips to his cheek. She ran her hands down his back, over his muscles and scars, as he stayed still inside her, savouring the moment. She rolled her hips against him and he buried his face in her neck as he started to thrust inside her. He put his arms around her, pulling her hard against him, as the blood rushed in his ears. She rubbed her face against his, as if she realised this might be their only chance, as if she knew she might never be this close to him again.

“Omera," he whispered, and she pressed her lips to his jaw.

“I want you to come inside me,” she said. He closed his eyes and muffled his groan in her neck as he had no choice but to do as she asked.

She ran her fingers through his hair, tracing comet trails down his back, and he pressed his sweat-soaked forehead to hers.

“Omera —” he said again, and she tilted her head up to kiss along his jaw.

“You don’t need to say it," she said. His heart was pounding as she twisted her fingers in his hair. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [twitter](http://twitter.com/theoceanblooms) or [tumblr](http://spectroscopes.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Also, while I was writing this I went to mandoa.org to find a Mandalorian term of endearment — because people whispering things to each other in a language only they understand but the other person instinctively knows what they mean is one of my favourite tropes — and then spent about half an hour losing my mind over the fact that there's already a mando'a word for "baby carrying harness" (birikad). An essential piece of equipment that I think we can all agree must show up in season two.


End file.
